


Mark of Carbon

by Nomad_Dash



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Violence, Ferdibert Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomad_Dash/pseuds/Nomad_Dash
Summary: “You see, our son has seemed to…," she tilted her back and forth for the right words. "has seemed to run off without noting anyone in the castle. We require you to find him and bring him back, or else you will return to this castle to never leave." She knew how men like Hubert worked, they needed something in return, and even though her husband would surely get grumpy, it would hopefully no doubt persuade him completely to bring back her child. "If you bring Prince Ferdinand back nary a scratch, we will lift all bounties in cities we control… up to this point."
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there gamer 
> 
> So here is my one and only contribution for Ferdibert week 2020. after doing it for every day last time, it took a lot out of me, so instead I'm going to do one gigantic ass story! That being said, it will not be the funny ride Traditions was last year, and it will be dealing with more serious topics this time that will be properly tagged once we get there. 
> 
> Fun fact, this story came from a roleplay I started with a friend back in 2012 that my oc Cato came from! He'll make a guest appearance later, but for now, it'll focus on Ferdinand and Hubert. I hope everyone can enjoy it as its been fun to roleplay this story for over many years :^)
> 
> (rating changed for violence and blood)
> 
> (prologue is now betaed by NoPantsSaturday !)

### Prologue

“Your bath is ready, Your Highness.”

In the doorway, the two maids stood with only a foot separating their shoulders. They were twins, their only physical difference between them being their hair -one choosing a twintail style for her iceberg locks while the other wore hers in a high ponytail, peach in color. They’ve been the prince’s maids for as long as he could remember, knows their similarities and differences well now, and knows of the annoyances they bring.

The agitation already growing within him must have been present on his face, as even though they stood as still as the furniture adorning the bedroom, they wore uncertain expressions, one being more subtle than her sister. Felicia was always the easier one to read.

Ferdinand could not blame them; they were bracing themselves for his temper that had been flaring up more and more as of late. The prince took a breath, held it for a second before pushing for a moment longer, and let it go through a thin opening between his lips. They didn’t deserve the full force of his anger, despite being part of the problem.

“Thank you Felicia, Flora.” He finally uttered, addressing the pink haired maid first with a small nod of his head since she was the one that looked more frazzled than her sister. She had been expecting yelling; it had come the last few times after all. Flora’s own expression neutralized to her usual soft, stoic look while Felicia started to look a little hopeful. Ferdinand continued. “I will take it now.”

Felicia’s hands pulled at the end of her apron, a nervous tick of hers that she’s been showing a lot more as of late. Flora tried to reach out, put a hand on top of hers to either stop the fidgeting or to stop her from speaking up, but she was not successful. Felicia asked in a rushed voice: “Do you need-?”

“I don’t need help with bathing.” The anger inside Ferdinand flared at such a simple question, lashing out quicker than her words and cutting her off before she could even finish her sentence. Both maids flinched at the snarl in his tone, Felicia almost looking scared as if the sharpness in the voice could stab her and draw blood.

They don’t deserve it.

But they were part of the problem.

Trying again, voice softer yet still far too stern to be seeing as friendly, Ferdinand tried to make amends. “I have told you many times before: I do not need help bathing of all things. Please, do stop asking every time. I promise you it is unnecessary.” Him denying the request should be obvious, since at age twenty three, he's been doing so for ten years now. For the longest time, he didn’t have the will to fight when it happened anyway. Lately he has been finding his voice, the reason why he was snapping so much as of late. He was reaching his limit.

His bottom lip quivered, memories flooding back of not being strong enough, of not being able to fight when it mattered most. He was too weak then, still too weak now, but he stopped himself before his train of thought started to plummet into darkness. It was not the time to relive the lowest point in his life. Before he was asked, he quickly schooled his expression to stop showing emotion that told where his mind was going. They wouldn’t be able to help anyway.

Ferdinand started to gather everything he needed for his bath such as a change of clothes and his hairbrush before heading towards the door to leave the room. He made it a few steps closer before Felicia bowed deeply at the waist.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness!” She stuttered her apology out quickly, eyes shut tight as Flora moved to bow with her. Felicia still kept her head low while Flora glanced up, gauging the prince’s reaction. He's shown many reactions to this display of pity by now -he had no idea which one she was looking for this time.

Normally, he used to say something, whether that be a returned apology or muttered acceptance. He wasn't sure when he stopped say anything in regards to it anymore, but he wasn't about to fix that problem. There were too many problems to deal with as it is. He passed the twin maids without a glance back, his face still set in the now commonplace scowl everyone saw him with behind the castle walls. Her apology was not returned nor acknowledged, and even though a part of him felt a twinge of regret and remorse for such an action, all he did was tuck his head closer to his chin and start to walk the halls to his private bath chambers.

The halls he wandered were grand and luxurious, fitted and decorated with portraits of kings past to present. He felt the eyes of his father, painted too bright as they looked down on him. King Ludwig stared at him, judging him for being different, and if Ferdinand were to be petty, he could do the same. The painter, talented as he was, took a lot of… creative liberties to make his father look far more appealing than he was in reality.

King Ludwig looked like a fit king, staring down at the unfit prince. Ferdinand decided he couldn’t take those painted eyes on him any longer. He wasn’t sure when he slowed down, maybe the portrait told him not to run in the halls, but he couldn’t pick up his feet as he was passing that familiar face.

His own portrait was still up, tattered and hastily fixed from a particularly bad episode of an emotional rampage.

This could never have been Ferdinand’s doing, though. His falter would never believe such a truth.

Once again the desire to harm and rip flooded the artwork though Ferdinand as he slowly passed, wanting to drag his blunt nails across his painted chest to shred it to pieces. The only thing that stopped him was that it wouldn’t be possible, even a knife needed some working through the thick weaving of canvas. Too bad his room was scavenged and any weapon he somehow got possession of was taken from him, faceless servants worried that their precious, innocent, little prince would somehow hurt himself. Of course, he would never cause harm on himself intentionally; just the image of who he was supposed to be.

With a shake of his head, Ferdinand managed to pick up his feet once more, only sparing the portrait his scowl to stab it instead of any physical touch. He quickened his pace ever so slightly and it wasn’t until he reached his destination did he slow down. He slipped inside the bath chambers, quickly closing the door behind him. It was locked immediately with a flick of his wrist, but just for extra assurance and privacy, a chair was placed underneath the door handle to make sure there would be no intruders.

Even with all these precautions, he didn’t feel like he could truly relax with unease still gnawing at his heels. His shoulders were still tense as he started to undress, ears perking at any noise just out of range from the other side of the door. Once he was fully nude, he tested the water temperature with his hand, making no noise of agreement that it was warm enough before moving to sink into the water.

Warm vanilla and honey immediately filled his nose as the bubbles pushed up to his chin, soaking him in soothing opulence. The low sunset of dusk could be seen out of the window in front of him, a few clouds covering the rays of light to not blind him. No longer could Ferdinand hear any commotion going on outside, and as he sank a little deeper into the tub after waiting and listening for a minute too long, he reveled in the silence that was in his company.

After some shifting around, he pulled all his hair to lay over his right shoulder, long brunt autumn curls that laid damp and darkened by the water. Not having it stick to his back helped him relax just a bit more.

It was all fit for royalty, fit for Prince of Adrestia: Ferdinand von Aegir.

He absolutely hated it.

This luxury was tainted, covered in blood that was hidden by gold jewels and velvet. The complaints of his people he were to rule in the future made sense to him, the contempt was there and he could try to make everything better when he would have that heavy crown on his head, but-

Ferdinand faintly realized he was holding on too tight to the ridge of the bathtub, knuckles as white as the bubbles slowly popping away around him. He also realized that he had hardly done anything in regards to bathing, and soaking wouldn’t wash away the filth that tainted him on the inside.

His sigh was deep and drawn out when he grabbed the nearby soap, putting a small blob on his hand to lather between his palms. He started to cover his body in the soap, the scent only slightly comforting as he started to scrub away the skin level dirt.

Every now and then his fingers would curl and his nails would bite into his flesh, but he would stop himself before he started to scratch with enough force to scab. His hands would hover above whatever part of his body he was trying to clean, fighting with himself to scratch more or relax. The pauses would only last for a few seconds before his shaking hands would lower back onto his body to take a calming breath and continue. It was a habit he has only recently broken -the need to clean beyond his skin still rearing its ugly head as always. It never worked out when he did it in the past, only causing more harm than good. With his body taken care of, he moved to his hair once he grabbed the shampoo. Once more it was lathered between his fingers before he started to thread it through his hair.

As his hands moved, his mind started to wander; eyes half lidded and unseeing as he cleaned himself. He couldn’t do it, it was all too much -the people, the eyes, the voices, the judgement. This image of perfection he was supposed to be, but hiding hidden cracks that marked him like carbon.

Couldn’t.

Couldn’t.

Couldn’t.

He could try again.

The water framed his face and made his hair stick to him as he submerged fully underneath the suds. He stayed underneath the surface for only a few brief moments before sitting back up and running his fingers through his hair, pushing pieces of it away from his features. Most of the shampoo was gone as he worked through the tresses with his fingers to get rid of the rest.

He could try again, the more positive train of thought continued, but the guards were slowly catching up to him now. They were always one step behind unlike the two from last time and the three the time before. Not only that, Ferdinand was sure his father told Flora and Felicia to pester him more to prevent it from happening again.

It was annoying, but he supposed it did come with getting a little more sloppy in desperation. Either way, he was running out of chances, so this might be his last attempt to fix his problem.

A new found determination flared in his eyes, his lips set in a thin line as he quickly finished up his bath. No hesitation, he was doing this now. He dried off droplets of water sticking to his body, brushing his hair out quickly before it was wrapped up in a towel as he redressed. He knew The schedules of the Knights, guards, and maids all too well now, and if he tried out this new plan -and it all went right -he would have just enough time.

Walking down the hall back to his room, his portrait was completely ignored before he continued on. He had a goal in mind, and it would be the last time he saw the dreaded, fake smile of a mask he wore immortalized in oils and pastels.

For the nth time in his life, Prince Ferdinand von Aegir was going to denounce his name from his royal title, and try to live the life he wanted: That of a common man.

He was going to run away. He was going to runaway to the outskirts of his kingdom and possibly, preferably, into the Leicester Alliance. Maybe even into Faerghus to be as far away from the Aegir territory and Adrestia as a whole as possible. He did not have a set destination in in mind, but he did know which territories to avoid, so no high end noble could recognize him out living his dream life. The last thing he wanted was for all of his hard work to be ruined by some oblivious, brainwashed fool he had to call his acquaintance for social gatherings.

He’s had this planned out for years, and after many, many failed attempts, he knew the night he would be victorious.


	2. The Hunters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Violence/blood, eye trauma, minor character (Ocs) death

### The Hunters

Deft hands passed the cards around the table, carefully and meticulously making sure those that needed to be faced down were so along with those set to be faced up. There were five people at the table for the game of poker, four excluding the dealer himself, three excluding the drunk passed out in the far right seat. He hasn’t been handed cards for a few rounds now, his head laying on the table with a loose hold on the pitcher of ale in hand.

The dealer waited for a moment, his job currently paused as he waited for his players to make up their mind on the next move. The cards he placed down left a little bit of wiggle room to work with, and as he watched the players peek at their cards under their palms, strategies were being formed. Some had better poker faces than others. They went in clockwork order.

The first person who moved was a man in his mid-forties, gray now starting to pepper his chestnut colored hair at the sides. The dealer didn’t know much about him such as where he came from or what was his job, just that he went by the name Luke and would wave down the barmaid to bring him a shot of whiskey every now and then. He could handle his liquor well, the dealer noted, and was able to pace himself unlike the drunk. Luke’s face was neutral as he sighed, picking up his cards to throw weakly in front of him. “I fold.”

Unfortunate. Moving on.

The man in the middle was the youngest of the current players, and his inexperience showed. His poker face was nonexistent, and if he weren’t a prospering businessman, the dealer would wonder how he was able to lose so much money. The dealer knew the most about this player; James Meadows was his name, written on the deed to his shop he might lose at this rate. James’ hands shook as he hesitated, hovering over his chips and wondering what to do. Finally, he pushed a few forward, raising the bet the bare minimum amount allowed.

The final playing member matched the age of the first, though was aging a little less gracefully with how heavyset the wrinkles in his face were, aging him a good extra ten years. The dealer had only heard his name once, but the name Hector was etched into his mind as it was what he told his contract. Hector mumbled to raise the bet. The dealer knew he wanted more money, knew that Hector had the best poker face out of all of them.

He also knew that Hector was teaming up with Luke to cheat, counting cards and making sure they both left with stolen money from the drunk, James, and any other unlucky bastard that stepped up to the table. The dealer couldn’t call them out on it though, that’s how the last worker -his employee, his friend- died with a knife in his back.

It was why the dealer hired back up, but he didn’t give the signal just yet. It was too soon, too expected. As much as it pained him to watch these men steal right from under his nose, he had to wait. It was hard though to stay blissfully ignorant, especially since the pot was raised again.

“My wife is going to kill me.” James mumbled under his breath, once again showing just how bad he was at the mental aspect of the game. He must have been surprised that he said such worries aloud as he spooked in his spot once Luke nudged him with his elbow.

“Chin up, lad,” Luke jested, his rough voice filled with glee, “Win this and you can buy her something mighty nice. What does she like? Jewelry? Sweets? Maybe a new pair of shoes?”

The encouragement worked, James now offering him a timid smile. “She has been so stressed after Emilia was born.” The dealer’s lips twitched into a faint frown -James as sharing too much. “I’d like to get her something nice. There is a new dress she’s been eyeing recently.”

Luke clapped him on the back hard, laughing loud. “That’s the spirit!”

James ended up losing that round.

As the night continued and more rounds were played, the dealer had to silently commend the cheaters for showing a little bit of compassion. They allowed James to walk away with a little bit of profit in his pockets, unlike the last unfortunate patron that ignorantly played with them. Maybe it was to not get caught stealing completely, or maybe it was from the mentions of a family that led them to show James some mercy; the dealer didn’t care either way. He still wanted revenge for his dead friend.

The drunk was kicked from the table, James walking away back home with his coin pouch only feeling a little bit heavier than when he walked in bright eyed and ready to win. Luke and Hector started to walk off towards the rooms the inn offered. The table was cleaned, and as the dealer dragged a damped rag across the wood, he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up, and the once empty bar room floor had another patron that wasn’t there before. Their eyes met from where the other man peeked over the rim of his pint of ale.

The dealer looked away first to gather up the cards and turn around. He started to walk towards the bar counter to move past it, heading for the door behind that led to storage. It was opened with a turn of a key, but before he entered, he gave the door frame two quick knocks.

The dealer slipped into the room as the man put down his ale started up the stairs.

At first, Luke and Hector were walking apart from each other, looking like two people who just happened to be going in the same direction, but they soon joined together. Their shoulders were touching, close enough to murmur low to each other. Their follower could not hear what they were saying, but he had a feeling he knew what the topic was about; the winnings of the night needed to be split evenly after all.

A shadow was found, and the follower slithered into the dark, once more hiding in wait. Luke went into one room, Hector into the one right next to it, and the waiting game started up again. That was fine with him, this song and dance was one Hubert knew how to lead all too well.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour passed before, at the other end of the hall, the shadows there waved at him. Another signal that it was clear to act -everyone was in position.

With a faint nod, Hubert silently walked towards Luke’s door, adjusting his wrist for a lock pick to slide down his sleeve. He adjusted it in his hand, picking at the locked door with practiced ease. With a confirming click, the door was unlocked and opened.

“Who’s there!?” Luke asked as soon as Hubert slipped inside. Luke was lying on the bed, woken from his slumber.

Hubert said nothing as he pocketed the lock pick, his new item of choice being the dagger he had strapped to his leg. It was unsheathed, and all Hubert could think about was how easy this would be considering how long he had to wait.

Fear flashed in Luke’s eyes as he caught sight of the weapon. He looked up at Hubert before glancing at the wall next to him. He thought quickly, raising his fist to start banging on the wall as hard as he could. “Hector! There’s-!”

He was cut off as Hubert moved forward swiftly, dodging any kicks or punches Luke tried to throw as he dragged him out of bed. Luke was brave enough to cheat at gambling, but too weak to put up a proper fight. It would be easy to kill him right now, as the dagger to his throat and a hand pulling his hair was enough to subdue him, but his partner wanted to see him first. A knock at the door made Luke jump in his spot restrained on the floor.

“Luke? You okay in there?” The voice on the other side of the door sounded distant, not completely there. Hubert did not remove his dagger, keeping it in place as Luke swallowed thickly. It kept him quiet, and Hubert decided not to say a word either. The door was still unlocked. “I’m… I’m coming in.”

The door opened slowly, and despite how big of a man Hector was, the man behind him was taller, broader in the shoulders. He guided Hector into the room, pushing him closer to Luke with a dagger to his back. This time, the larger man made sure to lock the door, trapping their victims inside.

“We’ll make this quick,” the other man spoke, stabbing Hector slightly by pushing the tip of the knife into his back. Hubert watched him wince at the pain before his face fell. A swift kick to his legs made his knees buckle, and Hector was soon kneeling on the ground next to Luke. Hubert’s partner always took the speaking roll, and as he stood between them, his deadly glare was not ruined by his eye patch at all. He continued. “Why did you feel the need to kill an innocent man that caught you cheating?” His voice was low and cold, making Luke shiver.

Hector still had some fight left in him, it seemed, as he spat up at the talking man before speaking himself. “That sleazy bitch was going to rat us out to the authorities! For something as simple as cheating? There’s real criminals like you two out there that those pigs should fuck up! I won that money fairly.”

The other hunter reached up to wipe the spit from his cheek with his thumb, looking over his glove with mild interest as he decided what to do. Hector’s face did not waver as he waited, but Luke still looked absolutely terrified. Finally, the other man reached his conclusion. He reached out, threading his fingers through Hector’s hair, and pulled his head back so he could look at him.

Hubert watched Luke’s face pale as the other man forced his dagger into Hector’s eye, finding it more interesting than the kill itself. Hector’s screams didn’t last long before he fell limp against the floor next to Luke.

Luke pulled his eyes away from his friend, looking up at the other two men. “No, please, I have a family -my son-!”

Hubert took his turn hushing Luke, stabbing his mouth shut with a dagger under his chin and through his tongue. The blood started to trickle down the handle as Luke's body fell atop of his friend. Hubert straightened as he watched the blood start to pool. “We sure left an awful mess for the maids.”

The other man shrugged his shoulder. “They should've paid the cleaning service fee then.”

A wry chuckle left Hubert as his partner stepped away from the bodies, moving to search the room as Hubert searched the corpses. First thing first, the coin they won from today’s games. He needed to count it, see just how much they got away with. Next came splitting it in half, a portion set to go back to the inn while they got to keep the rest. Finally, the rest was split evenly for him and his partner to keep.

“Dimitri.” Hubert called to catch his partner’s attention, said man looking over to see what he needed before smiling slightly.

“Thank you.” Dimitri took the coin pouch, feeling its weight in his palm. He let out a low whistle. “Tonight we dine like kings.”

They were kind, at least, and made the bed in the rooms and cleaned up their mess of rummaging for any other hidden treasures. The bodies were left in a neat pile in Luke’s room, minus the blood, of course, daggers cleaned off on their victim’s clothes before being sheathed again.

The dealer was subtly paid at the back of the inn, but before he could notice that the coin pouch was lighter than what half of the night’s winnings should feel like, Hubert and Dimitri were gone. Dimitri handed him the coin pouch that was supposed to be his to keep, taking the inn’s half to have a little more to share with Hubert.

Together they slipped into the lull of the night, stopping by a general store to break into and steal said meal of kings. They weren’t cruel though, and they left without making a mess and offered some coins on the counter to pay for what they took. If it was a little less than what everything was worth, then, well, it wasn’t their fault for not completely knowing the worth of an apple. It was better than nothing, after all.

The shop was left alone once they had their fill of food, and together they headed out to the outskirts of town to move on somewhere else. Their lives as bounty hunters took them everywhere, Dimitri often counted the years on his hand how long it’s been since he’s truly been “home.” Hubert personally stopped counting. He missed his little sister and his mother, sure, and did hope they were safe, but he needed to do something before going back.

“You let Hector talk far longer than I expected.” Hubert mused once they found a spot in the wilderness to set up their little camp. “How did he earn such an honor?”

Dimitri laughed at the teasing mirth in Hubert’s tone, shaking his head slightly as he poked at the small fire still burning between them. It was starting to go out, but the poking was merely play instead of trying to bring it back to life. The moon was high in the sky, the fire needed to go out anyway before the smoke caught anyone’s attention. “He put up a good fight! If it wasn’t for Luke’s knocking, he might’ve left a mark on me.” The punch to his stomach stung a little when he received it, but it wasn’t enough to knock the wind out of him like Hector wanted.

Hubert adjusted his position from where he laid on the ground, one hand under his head while the other laid across his stomach. “The same couldn’t be said for Luke. I almost felt bad for the man for how little he tried,” He seemed so tough and slick when he was in control of the game, but crumbled as soon as he was at a disadvantage. “He did resort to the family excuse rather quickly.”

“He counted all the cards on the table, but not the one holding his life.”

Hubert snorted at the cheesy line, tilting his head to the side to see Dimitri looking smug at his little joke. “How long have you been holding on to that one?”

Dimitri straightened his back and squared his shoulders with pride. “Since we killed them.”

Hubert rolled his head back to look up at the night sky, kicking his legs out to cross them at the ankles. “That would’ve been a far more fitting goodbye to the client than a simple "see ya." A horrid joke and robbed right under the nose? Classic.”

Dimitri agreed with a nod of his head. “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

“Speaking of which, where is next time?”

Dimitri started to move around in his spot, dropping his poking stick to pull his satchel out in front of him. He started to look through it, finding a map that had been well used after a number of years. It was gently unrolled to not cause any more rips, and with a hum Dimitri started to look over it for possible routes. After a moment of thought and a click of his tongue, he started to think out loud. “We’re at the edge of Merceus territory right now. After we pass through the town of Vixion, we’ll be in Aegir territory.”

“Aegir?” Hubert lifted his head at that before letting out a sigh. “My bounty is quite high there.”

“Impressive so.” Dimitri chimed in like it was something to be proud of and compliment.

Maybe it was. Hubert couldn’t help but preen with pride. “Thank you.”

After a short chuckle, Dimitri went back to business. “We’ll just have to be careful like we were with me in Rowe. Nothing we can’t handle. There’s a lot of rich bastards in Aegir; if we pick our hunts right, I’m sure we’ll have enough saved to pay off your bounty.”

“You are just full of jokes today.” Hubert snorted at the thought. As if he was going to pay off his own bounty; such a number above his head meant nothing to him when no one lived to tell the tale of trying to claim it. Either of them, for that matter. Dimitri’s head in Rowe was worth just as pretty of a penny.

“Is it so wrong to have fun at my job?”

“If you weren’t so far away I would push you.”

Dimitri returned the faint smile Hubert wore at their light banter. “I’m guessing you want me to be on watch first then, lazy ass?”

“I was first watch last time,” and to prove a point that he was, in fact, not lazy, Hubert lifted his hand off his stomach to point at him, “that means it's your turn.” It was only fair to keep the pattern they had up going.

Dimitri waved him off with his hand. “Alright, get your beauty sleep, princess.”

“Hmm, thank you. And tell the royal chefs I want crepes for breakfast, maid.” Hubert rolled over to lay on his side, back to the low embers of the fire and a chuckling Dimitri.

It finally died down some time later and Hubert closed his eyes, slipping into a light and dreamless sleep.


	3. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea, this is still going on, sorry for that long break. I went through a writing rut lol  
> things may seem out of character and not make sense with the game, but I'm really stretching this au tag. things will be related, some a little more closely to canon, but others not so much. To make things clear, I imagine Hubert being 25 in this, but Dimitri about 40. I hope with all that it will still be enjoyable ahaa

### Caught

Travel was long and boring, but Hubert supposed it was better than everything going wrong and having to fight for their lives instead of profit. Hubert and Dimitri moved across the land from town to kingdom and to anywhere they could on foot. To be honest, Hubert would love to get a horse or two for them, but no, Dimitri feared them. 

The story of how he lost his eye always changed, but no matter how creative he was feeling, a horse was always involved. He had started to guess after the fifth alliteration of the the tale, Dimitri was blaming horses for his own stupid mistake. Still, Hubert never pressed about it in their moments of traveling downtime as other topics were more important: Hunts, money, and birds.

Dimitri was great at bird calls, a talent Hubert couldn't mimic no matter how hard he tried--granted he did give up after two or three attempts; his skills were better elsewhere anyhow. At the least, he could tell the difference between a chaffinch and a blackbird. The calls were how they found each other every now and then, and in the case of entering Aegir; the signal to tell Hubert all was safe for the moment. 

Hubert knew how to hide his face well, but with how much he was wanted in Aegir, it was best to allow Dimitri to do all the metaphorical paperwork of finding them targets to kill. Things were reversed back in Rowe, and it was a method of money-making they could switch all too easily. It was not preferred, not in the slightest, but adjusting was key to survival.

The high sun of noon greeted them once they made it to the edge of town, they avoided horses and the people who walked across dirt trails that turned into stone once that invisible city limits line was reached. No doubt stone paths connected every building in the city, and even at the edge of town homes and businesses were brick and mortar. Solid in their foundation, and it may be the bit of distance Hubert shared with them, but he could not see any wear of age. Even the “Main Street” of his old, birth village homed nothing but rotting shacks. Why looters and raiders cared to pillage that hole in the woods instead of here, where the wealth was, was lost on him. 

“Find us something good.” Hubert spoke up, a glance over at Dimitri spared. He found it best to guess he was judging the town all the same. 

Dimitri nodded, his opening to sneak into the crowd found. “Common reed bunting,” With that seen as a fitting parting, he left. 

Why the hell he had to use these long bird names when a robin sounded just the same was lost on him. Maybe they were a little different, but he was a murderer, not a music theorist that could tell the difference between two nonexistent notes, nor was he an ornithologist. Fuck that.  But he knew what to listen for, just as he knew not to stand around here, watching travelers move like some sort of dangerous man. 

Hubert started to move, figuring it would be best to see what he could of the perimeter of the town before he heard the call of this specific bird.  _ Common reed bunting… if they’re so common, why haven't I seen one before?  _ It was a stupid thought to focus on--there were more important matters at hand. 

Even the backs of the buildings were far too neat and spotless for Hubert’s liking; he could tell which structure was an inn, a shop, a bakery and so on without any signage to guide him. The jealousy wanted to flare up within him, but it was stomped down by reason. Of course this town would look pretty and perfect, it was on the closer side of that too big castle that stared down at all the residents. The royal palace’s shadow had to look like nobility too.

The shrilled whinny of a horse caught Hubert’s attention from where he was about to mentally map out a back alleyway he found. He quickly turned his head towards the noise, slipping a little further into the alleyway to watch from a safe distance. Shining too bright in the sun, the royal family crest of Aegir adorned the horses with banners on their rumps and knights riding proud. It branded the knights like cattle, and Hubert knew not to step in the way of a raging bull. The knights seemed set on something that he couldn’t see, as they rode out of town at an urgent gallop. Surely there wasn’t already work out that he was here ready to make money and cause havoc?

His question was quickly answered with an affirming  _ no  _ as the knights didn’t bother looking around as they rode out, helmets facing forward and shouting something that Hubert was too far away to catch clearly outside of the word “Find.” Still, he held his breath for a moment too long as he waited. He refused to leave his little hiding spot until the sound of pounding hooves was nothing more than a distant memory.

A gut feeling told him that this pass through town wasn’t going to be as easy as Dimitri made it sound. Hubert was left to wonder if it would be best to stay in this haughty town or to move on elsewhere. All towns were profitable for their line of work, some just paid more than others. He was fine making a little less than originally planned for a while if it meant they could avoid… whatever that was. Where one knight was, more were to follow, and what he saw left was a small army of about seven.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed until the call of a robin came, and with a small shake of his head, he corrected himself to a common reed motherfucker. When Hubert was in a good mood, he would poke fun at his avian loving work partner by showing off his own bird calling skills since he would do a pretty accurate duck. However, he was not about to yell out “quack!” right now.

Another chirp, a little closer this time, and Hubert knew where to go. He moved out of the alley and searched for Dimitri. He wasn’t hard to spot since he was heading right for him--he must have had the same thought of looking for little nooks here in the back. Instead of the smile Dimitri usually wore when he secured a job, a small frown pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Did you see them too?” He asked once close enough.

Hubert nodded. It was hard not to.

“Shit,” Dimitri exhaled in a breath, “there’s more of them in town too. Something happened, but I couldn’t find out what.”

“Local gossip not reliable for once?” He asked with a small tilt of his chin towards the direction of town.

Dimitri shrugged, “They’re just as lost too. I’ve heard some guesses that it has something to do with the royal family--since, you know, as if they’ll admit anything is wrong--but no one knows what to believe or not.”

Hubert let out a small hum, “I don’t think we should stay for long. Let’s do a job or two while passing through and then move along. We can always come back when this dies down later.”

“What an unfortunate pause in our get rich quick scheme.” Dimitri’s laugh was a short huff of breath before he changed the subject, “Well, I have some good news at the least. I did find us a quick job to do. A daughter wants her, to quote: ‘piece of shit dad dead in the dirt since mom isn’t doing anything about it.’ Should be something nice and easy for us.”

“You say that, but…" Hubert trailed off the thought, wondering if he should state this anxious feeling his instincts were giving him. They’ve both had this feeling before, the need to watch one’s back came with the job, but they knew how to take care of themselves. Knights littering a town was just another problem they could handle. Instead of starting up his original thought, he changed the subject, “how many knights did you see in the city?”

“Too many to count. But if it helps, they’re more around the commerce areas of the town instead of the neighborhoods. We should be fine.”

Great. “Gonna have to play this really smart.” Hubert’s voice was flat and a note softer than what he normally spoke at. They always played smart, but they were two killers against what he could only guess hundreds of knights patrolling for something and-

A nudge to his shoulder cut off his thought process, and when he looked up, Dimitri was offering him a lopsided smirk. “We haven’t made it this far playing dumb. We’ll be fine, and when we get paid, dinner will be on me. Ale and mutton pie?”

His favorite meal as an extra reward only lessened the feeling slightly, but Hubert hid his trepidations well. “Sounds delicious.”

~ !~

The job didn’t have a timeframe outside of “as soon as possible” Dimitri relayed, so because of this, the two hunters spent their time in wait lurking around town. Hubert joined in now, no longer wanting to sit on the sidelines like a waiting maiden--he was a man of action. If he didn’t make up his mind to join in on the patrol already, another group of knights galloping out of town helped him decide it would be best to be in town instead of out. Together, they learned where mounted and on foot knights were posted, along with the general path they wandered. Dimitri once guessed that the town was on lockdown, but Hubert quickly shot the theory down. People still continued on with their daily lives and were allowed to come and go as they please. The townsfolk still didn’t know what was wrong by what gossip the two hunters were able to hear in passing, but even they were cautious of the extra security around. 

It was risky killing on the first night, and that didn’t account all these loyal dogs in shining armor plastered around every corner, but the plan was to get this job over and done with so they could lay low and leave. The plan to get a few more jobs while passing through had been tossed and forgotten. Living life risky was fun and spiced things up, but Hubert did enjoy breathing fresh air instead of that of a stale cell--and that was if they didn’t execute him on the spot. They’ve done little kills like this all the time, it should be easy. Dimitri did have a soft spot for families, so Hubert knew he wanted to at least complete this job before passing over the rest.

When shadows fell and stars spotted the sky, it was time to move. The cottage of the crime looked homey from where they watched it from a distance. The wood looked clean with nary a split, and Hubert went out of his way to point out that the hitching post looked recently installed. At the least no horses were tied up this late at night. They’ve seen two knights come and go through this quaint, residential area, but Dimitri was right when he said they mostly loitered around businesses. 

According to the daughter, she and her mother would be out for the night and only the father would be home. Right now they couldn’t tell if anyone was inside, but after another check to see if any knights were around and coming up empty, it was time to move closer.

Hubert made sure he stayed away from neighboring homes’ windows as he stalked closer. Dimitri had branched off from his side, the plan being to corral the house like an animal on both sides. Closer to the home, a few windows resided on Hubert’s side, but after cautiously peeking into each one, he saw no signs of the target. He would not think anything of it yet, not until he got word from Dimitri if he had seen him.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Hubert’s attention, but a quick turn of his head showed it was simply Dimitri. Hubert dropped his hand away from his dagger and stepped closer when prompted with a wave. Nothing was said as Dimitri turned to lead Hubert where he wanted him to go. One behind the other, they rounded the house until Dimitri stopped in front of another window. There inside was their target, passed out in a rocking chair with a flask at his feet, shining in what moonlight the two hunters weren’t blocking with their heads. On the small table by the chair a candle still burned, and wax dripped onto the wood to form a small, hardened puddle. He's been there for a while.

This wouldn’t need two people. Dimitri looked back over at his partner and raised a hand, his finger wagging back and forth once between them.  _ You or me? _

Hubert was a man of action, but he knew which fights to pick. He lifted his hand to tap by his right eye.  _ I can see better than you. I’ll keep watch. _

Dimitri faked offense, he had adapted to living with one eye very well, how dare he patronize him like that. He kept up the act as he huffed a sharp puff of air and waved Hubert off. With the victim found, all that was left to do was break in, kill, and get paid. 

There was no need to watch Dimitri pick the lock to the back door, but Hubert still waited until it was done before he moved from his spot. The back door clicked open, and as Dimitri snuck inside, Hubert picked up his feet to move. He started to patrol the house as if he was the one set out to protect it instead of ruin.

He rounded to the front of the house, and the sight he saw made him take a few steps back and stick to the sides. The two knights they had seen before had become four, multiplied like the parasite they were. Thankfully, it looked like they weren’t facing his direction, or even remotely interested in this area as they stayed in their tight group. Hubert willed Dimitri to hurry up so they didn’t give them a reason to look over. He still wondered what they were still doing out, especially this late at night. It had been a long time since he and Dimitri last visited Aegir, but he knew that this wasn’t normal. If Hubert was anymore paranoid, he would’ve guessed that they expected his return.

“...Oliver!”

Hubert jumped in his spot as he turned towards the home, the cry barely muffled by the wooden frame. He looked back towards the front of the cottage since that’s where it sounded like it came from and he knew he needed to hush the noise to help Dimitri. It would be quickest to run through the front, but the door was still locked. It’s been so long since a job had gone south, but he was going to keep a leveled head.

“...is he?!” A different voice. The family wasn’t gone--the house wasn’t cleared like the daughter said and neither hunter had seen them in their look over. Whether it was a mishap or a trap, Hubert didn’t care to know. He turned to head towards the back door, but as soon as he made the decision he heard the front door open with rushed force, hitting the side home with a loud  _ bang! _ Afterwards, out ran two people.

They were the witnesses, but he was not about to chase them out in the open. They continued to run, a middle aged woman with one hand to her chest and the other holding onto the wrist of her teenage daughter, screaming for help and crying for her dead husband. The fear in her voice was palpable, her world broken and lost with her husband dead in her home. The daughter was silent, dragged along as the mother ran towards the knights.

“Help! Murder--! Murderer! My husband is dead, please help us!”

If things went well, they would only know of Dimitri, and he would be out of harm's way. It would be perfect for Hubert to slip away into nothing, out of sight, out of mind. He could regroup with Dimitri later, and they could leave this town even sooner. But H ubert made a mistake. He rounded the corner of the home to look inside the front door. Inside he could see the legs of the dead man, still in place as he was probably too drunk to struggle against his death. There were no traces of Dimitri at all. He needed to run.

Quick on his feet, Hubert turned on his heels to run away from the scene. It would have been perfect to slip away from the action, and yet he couldn’t say why he didn’t. He put himself into trouble, placed himself in danger when he first agreed to passing through Aegir as if it was just another little settlement instead of a promising city. Right now, all it promised him was that his bounty would be cashed out. Every man for themselves and all, and that was why Dimitri left him. It was why he would’ve done the same if the roles were switched.

Try as he might, horses were faster than him, and soon he could hear the sound of rushing hooves right behind him. He didn’t have to look back to know there were more knights than he could fight by himself coming for him.

“Halt, criminal!”

Hubert didn’t pay attention to which knight spoke as he was cut off by two horses. His feet dug into the stone to stop his momentum lest he run into one of the steeds. The knights pulled their horses to a stop with a tight tug of their reins, stomps and snorts leaving the stallions in protest. He was surrounded, and whichever pathetic, heroic speech one knight was giving him was thoroughly ignored.

Hubert knew how to pick his fights.

“...surrender now, or pay with your life!”

Ever so slowly, Hubert lifted his hands in surrender, fingers spread and palms facing the knight that spoke once he found out which one it was. Between the knights and to his left, he saw the mother and daughter, the former sobbing so hysterically that it alerted the neighbors. She held her daughter by the shoulder, and finally he could read her expression. She regretted hiring hit men, her face pale and lips parted. It would settle in soon that blood was on her hands.

Hubert’s wrists were grabbed and tugged behind him, bound together by twine that bit tightly into his skin. He grunted his annoyance at the treatment, but with a jerk and another too tight knot, it was obvious that the knights didn’t care about treating him justly. Those that dismounted were back on their horses, and Hubert was left to walk in shame to wherever they wanted to lead him. He spared another glance at the family, the mother was now hiding her face and her tears; a neighbor had come out to solace her with a hand on her back. The daughter watched him in return. Hubert could only offer her a pitiful stare.

She should have known the dangers of hiring men like them and the consequences of her actions. He and Dimitri didn’t care about morality or ethics of taking money from people to kill, even those too young to properly think through what they were doing or why. All Hubert hoped was that she found comfort in her first kill, although it was indirect. He had experienced the same state of shock and dissonances too when he killed for the first time at the too young age of ten. Dimitri was there to put an arm around his shoulder like the older father figure he never had, offering the weak excuse of self defense as if he he didn't have a small sack of gold resting on his thighs.

It was almost surreal to see Dimitri after he recalled such a fond memory and Hubert had to blink his eyes into focus to try and look past the arching neck of one of the horses. Dimitri was there though, and he watched Hubert be led away while he blended in to the crowd of gossiping, nosy common folk. He did not join in murmuring possibilities of what happened, only offering a man who turned to him a weak shrug. Hubert wished he would help, desperation to not be caught tried to put the thought into Dimitri’s mind. He wanted him to do something, anything. 

Dimitri lowered his head. With a whistle of a songbird, he turned his back to him and left the crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> if i take too long to update please tweet me saying im ugly @NomadDash


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